


Blood Ties

by CaptainStormChaser



Series: The Family of Blood [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, F/F, F/M, I'm sorry that Kanaya is illiterate for part of this, Longing, Minor Character Death, Vampire Kanaya, Vampires, Vampirestuck, Violence, cancer patient Tavros, illiterate Kanaya, vampire Porrim, vampire Tavros, vampire Vriska, vampires poisoning drinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 22:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3828109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainStormChaser/pseuds/CaptainStormChaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Born in 19th century Bristol, Kanaya Maryam leads an unhappy life until the day she meets a beautiful stranger. This is the story of her 2nd life, filled with unreturned love, motherly instinct, and the search for a purpose spanning a century.</p><p>WARNING: Contains spoilers for Blood Wars. All of the spoilers. All of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act 1

Bristol, England  
1892  
  
Kanaya Maryam threaded the needle repeatedly, quickly, precisely. She needed to finish hemming this dress before she would be allowed to leave for the evening, or the seamstress would give her a good clot to the head and take away her pay the next day.  
  
She tied off the thread in a neat knot, cutting the thread when she was sure it was done. Kanaya breathed a sigh of relief, putting away her sewing supplies. She grabbed her things, blew out the candles she had been using for light, and left the shop alone in the dark.  
  
She had been going home late often lately, after her father died and she had had to take a job to help support her mother and herself.  
  
She heard something on the streets behind her and picked up her pace. Something larger than rats or the old tom cat that liked to slink about the area. She followed instructions she had been given as a child that couldn't sleep and took to heart, even twelve years later; she sang a song in her head, trying to calm her racing heart.  
  
She didn't dare look behind her. Just pulled her scarf tighter around her to fight off the wind biting her skin and covering it with goose pimples.  
  
Kanaya turned a corner, taking the opportunity to look briefly behind her. There was a form barely visible in the dim moonlight, coming up behind her slowly. She was almost home now, almost safe.  
  
As she passed a narrow space between brick buildings, a hand reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her into the alley. She screamed, which was cut off by a hand over her mouth.  
  
Her breathing accelerated, she stopped screaming and the hand was removed from her mouth. She recognized the man who had pulled her in, as well as the man who had been following her, who was now blocking her escape. William Fischer and Ronald McClare, respectively.  
  
"Oi, it's the Maryam girl." William said musingly, right in front of Kanaya's face. She could smell booze on his breath.  
  
"What of it, Billy?" Ronald asked.  
  
"She ain't married, is all. Is ya, Maryam?"  
  
"No." She snapped.  
  
"Well, hows about ya get married?"  
  
"To who? I hope ya don't mean you." She replied, attempting to free herself from his grip.  
  
"Maybe I do." William replied, straightening to his full height and tightening the hand on her arm. "Cos you're gonna marry me."  
  
"In your dreams." She hissed in his face.  
  
William let go of her arm, using the hand to slap her across the face. Kanaya let out a gasp and fell to the ground, clutching her stinging jaw.  
  
"Oh, 'er cheeks is all red. She looks like a blushin' virgin."  
  
A vile smile spread across William's face with inspiration. He hauled Kanaya up by her arm and pressed her against the wall. She thrashed, and he hit her again. He shoved her scarf in to her mouth, making her gag. She tried screaming, tears rolling down her face.  
  
William reached for the hem of her skirt, pulling it up slowly and looking at her creamy legs. He slackened his grasp on her arm to tug at the lacing of her bodice with his thumb, and Kanaya landed a well-aimed punch to his nose.  
  
"Bitch!" He yelled, holding his surely broken nose while blood dripped between his fingers.  
  
She heard a loud _thwak_ from Ronald's direction, and he slid to the ground. In the light of the moon, Kanaya could make out the silhouette of a woman, cane in her hands and raised.  
  
Seeing no alternative, Kanaya ran to the woman. The stranger approached William, holding the cane across his throat.  
  
"You _never_ bother a woman ever again or I will find you, do you understand me?" The woman had a not-quite London accent, very articulate.  
  
William was focused on the woman's face, shaking with fear. He nodded jerkily. "Ye- Yes, ma’am."  
  
The woman turned around, using the cane for walking once again. She held her arm out to Kanaya, who took it.  
  
"Come along, dear. I'll escort you home."  
  
Kanaya nodded, and began walking toward home. "Thank you." She said when they were a ways away from the alley.  
  
"Think nothing of it. I just hate men who can get away with hurting women. It's disgusting."  
  
Kanaya stopped in front of her home, removing her arm from the woman's. "Well, I gotta go. Thanks again. The name's Kanaya, by the way."  
  
"Have to."  
  
"What?"  
  
"'Gotta' is not a word. Instead of 'I gotta go', you would say 'I have to go'."  
  
"Oh." Kanaya said, suddenly feeling scolded.  
  
"My name is Porrim." The woman offered. "It was lovely to meet you, Kanaya."  
  
"Please, it is late. If ya don't have anywhere else to go, you should stay here."  
  
Porrim smiled but shook her head. "I have somewhere to stay. And as it happens, I enjoy the night life quite a bit." She winked, then seemed to disappear into the darkness.

* * *

When Kanaya awoke the next morning, her only reminders of the night before were the large bruise on her cheek and the finger shaped ones on her upper arms. She let out a heavy sigh.  
  
When she arrived at the shop, she was quickly put to work on patching clothes and filling orders.  
  
She heard her mistress talking with customers, and one conversation in particular caught her attention.  
  
"Did you hear about poor Billy Fischer?"  
  
"No, what?"  
  
"A shame, they found him dead this morning. All bled out in an alley."  
  
Kanaya had stopped sewing to listen, and got a slap to her ear.  
  
"Lazy girl..." The seamstress complained.  
  
Kanaya finished her work for the day as quickly as she could without making mistakes. She didn't want to be out after dark again.  
  
She was finished and asked her employer for permission to leave, who was baffled but agreed, suggesting Kanaya might get a pay raise for the week if such speed continued.  
  
She left the shop and began her walk home, not getting far before she heard her name called, and Porrim approached her from behind.  
  
"Hello Kanaya, how are you doing today?"  
  
"Good, thank you."  
  
"Would you be able to spend the evening with me?" Porrim asked.  
  
Kanaya chewed her bottom lip before nodding.

* * *

The evening hours were spent with conversation in Porrim's pub room, Porrim frequently correcting Kanaya's grammar.  
  
The woman grinned over the rim of her wine glass at Kanaya.  
  
"You could come with me, you know. When I return to London. We would live in my manor, and you would receive an education from tutors."  
  
Kanaya was ready to laugh it off, but Porrim stopped her.  
  
"What is something you've always wanted to do? Something you want to accomplish?"  
  
The corner of Kanaya's mouth twitched a bit. "I don't know, I suppose I want to help people."  
  
"Ah, a philanthropist. Please, go on."  
  
"I want to be a nurse."  
  
"I would almost suggest you join a convent, but that wouldn't suit your needs, would it? As far as marriage goes."  
  
Kanaya nearly choked on the wine in her mouth, coughing and sputtering. "Pardon?"  
  
"You aren't married, and you don't want to marry. At least not any man."  
  
A blush rose softly in Kanaya's cheeks, but she blamed it on the wine, strangely potent as it was. "I should go, it's getting late."  
  
"Kanaya, you don't need to be afraid. You're not the only one, you know."  
  
"I-I don't know what you're talking about." Kanaya insisted.  
  
Porrim rested her hand on Kanaya's shoulder, comfortingly. She began to lean in, looking for a signal to stop. Kanaya could give none, breathing in shudderingly when Porrim's lips pressed to her cheek, very gently.  
  
Porrim kissed down Kanaya's neck, ending at the collar bone. Porrim chuckled gently, then bit down. Hard. Hard enough to break skin.  
  
Kanaya wanted to scream, but it just felt too good. It was like liquid rapture was rushing through her blood. Her face became very hot, then Porrim pulled away, gliding her tongue over the wound before she did so.  
  
Kanaya just looked at Porrim, out of breath. Then the world got hazy.  
  
She didn't know how long she spent like that, wading through muddled thoughts. She wondered if perhaps God were condemning her for her sins. For cursing. For not attending church for so long after her father's death. For lusting after women. If perhaps this is what damnation was like.  
  
She heard Porrim's voice speaking to her. Saying incomprehensible things.  
  
When Kanaya awoke, she was in Porrim's pub room still. The window drapes were drawn shut, but the dark was cozy. She spent somewhere between a few seconds and a few hours looking at her hands, finding the familiar swirls and lines in her palms and fingers.  
  
It was cut short by Porrim's arrival in the room, smiling.  
  
"You're awake. That is wonderful."  
  
"What happened?" Kanaya asked, sitting up and immediately feeling faint.  
  
"Would you like the long version or the short version and the long version later when you're feeling more up to it?"  
  
"The, the second one." Kanaya evened out her breathing and coughed from the dryness of her throat.  
  
"Alright, but I warn you it isn't entirely pleasant." Porrim said. "I am a vampire. You are also a vampire now, and you need to feed. Soon. Now, you may choose to follow your logic and fight this, possibly die, or you can follow your instinct and live."  
  
Kanaya growled low in her throat. " _Thirsty_."

* * *

“Did you hear about the widow Maryam’s daughter?” The gossip mongers of Bristol said for the following days, even weeks, to come.  
  
“No, what?”  
  
“Girl up and ran off. Left her poor mother all alone.”  
  
“I’d find ‘er and give ‘er a sound thrashin’ if it was my daughter, I would. ‘Ave you been to see the McClares yet?”  
  
“No. It’s a shame though, poor little Ronny. Wolf, did they say it was?”  
  
“Not a drop a blood in ‘is body. Just like the Fischer’s boy."


	2. Act 2

London, England  
1893

Kanaya's fingers barely made contact with the ivory keys, coaxing a noise from them. Of all the things she had taken up since joining Porrim in London, the piano was one of her favorites. Far more forgiving than the English, History, Arithmetic, Science, and French tutors that came twice a week for her lessons.

Kanaya took care to enunciate her language, knowing that a gentlewoman was to speak very clearly. Porrim would chastise her for improper grammar and garbled sentences.

But the nights were most exciting. They would leave the manor and take to the city, attending operas and parties that Porrim's connections had gotten her into. Kanaya was taught how to feed from willing humans, making the bite swift and less painful and taking care to leave them plenty of blood for themselves.

Since leaving Bristol, since the night she had become a vampire, Kanaya had been wondering. Porrim was now more platonic than before. The gentle kisses down Kanaya's neck were now no more than a memory. At least to the elder woman.

Kanaya stood from the bench. It was not good to play the piano if such thoughts were arising. Better to leave the crisp, clear notes to echo through the chamber.

Porrim should be getting back from her evening out soon enough. Kanaya had opted to stay in, as the early stages of fledglinghood were behind her, and she could now go several days without feeding.

Kanaya approached the entry hall, hearing Porrim's voice in the parlor. Kanaya smiled, looking through the doorway. Porrim was in her party dress for the evening and sitting on the sofa, but she was not alone.

Porrim had her mouth latched to the throat of a young man, his head thrown back and fist partially in his mouth to stifle moans of pleasure.

Porrim had many consorts, introducing them each to Kanaya. But she had never seen this man before.

His hand flew up to Porrim's breast, cupping and squeezing. Instead of swatting it away or breaking a few fingers like Kanaya expected her to, Porrim slid her own hand over the man's thigh.

Kanaya had seen enough. She turned and ran, not stopping until she was in her bedroom. She threw herself on the neatly made bed and began to cry. She cried until her eyes burned.

She didn't sleep at all that night. When morning came, she looked out the window at the rising sun. She had always loved sunrises, but this one seemed mocking. Something on the grounds caught her eye, and she saw that it was the man.

Giving in once again to instinct, Kanaya left her room through the window, broken glass spraying around her and biting her skin. But she didn't care.

The man looked at her, watched her leap from the window to the roof and to the ground. He was paralyzed with shock.

He might have said something, but Kanaya didn't hear. She only growled. Then he started to run.

She caught him easily, fingernails ripping the collar of his expensive silk suit. They might have also ripped skin, because he screamed and Kanaya had blood under her fingernails later.

For now she only saw red. Nothing else. Rage. Passion. Blood.

She was soon on her knees, the man on the ground. He had many wounds, all bleeding heavily. Kanaya's jaw hurt, and she realized she had been clenching it. There was also blood on her. On her hands, her clothes, leaking from her mouth.

A shadow approached her from behind, and a hand settled on her shoulder.

She turned to the beautiful oval face of Porrim, frowning sadly with sympathy in her eyes.

Kanaya flew into Porrim's arms, accepting the embrace and crying as Porrim's hand threaded through her hair. "It's not your fault that this happened. A vampire is a monster by nature, you must have your own compassion."

Kanaya wept.

* * *

Years passed in Porrim's manor house. Kanaya became an educated gentlewoman, and only then did Porrim begin to teach her about their kind. Their biology, their history, their sociology. She ate it up.

Shortly after the turn of the century, Porrim took her on a trip to the home of another vampire in the countryside.

Kanaya watched a fledgling awake as she had, watched and learned as Porrim helped him adjust to life, taught little tricks to survive, and ultimately convinced him to leave his human life behind.

It took less than a month, and they returned home. They spent the next few years going on these trips, educating and helping fledglings.

Kanaya performed her first successful assistance under the watchful eye of Porrim. From there on, she went alone on trips, comforting mourning fledglings and helping people, the way she had always wanted to.

Those were the best years of her young life.

It's incredible how the wonderful things in our life are the most delicate. The most easily broken.

Kanaya was returning home, and she immediately detected something out of the ordinary.

She entered the house quietly, and a crash sounded from upstairs. Swiftly and silently, she made her way to Porrim's study.

Two figures, a man and a woman, stood over Porrim, who was on the floor. Porrim was bleeding.

"Who are you?" Kanaya yelled at them.

They turned to face her, Porrim included.

"Kanaya, run." Porrim gasped out, coughing blood onto the carpet.

The humans grabbed weapons, guns pointed at Kanaya's chest.

She didn't wait long before launching herself at the woman, twisting the pistol from her grasp and throwing it across the room. Held in front of Kanaya, the woman served as a shield.

Kanaya shoved the woman roughly in the direction of the man, catching them both off guard and allowing her to get to the man's neck easy enough, snapping it.

The woman died in a similar manner, crumpling to the floor.

Kanaya went next to Porrim, holding her hand.

"I think this is it for me, Kanaya." Porrim laughed weakly.

"No, you are going to live. You have to live." Kanaya insisted, tears welling in the corners of her eyes.

"I am going to die, Kanaya. Don't be sad, that's the way it is."

Kanaya shook her head. "What do I do without you?"

"I knew this day would come eventually. I have letters in the drawer." She pointed to the desk behind her. "For what it's worth, you have made my last years my best."

"I'll miss you." Kanaya whispered.

"I'll miss you too. Thank you for everything."

Porrim's grip on Kanaya's hand slackened. Tear's dripped down Kanaya's face. She pressed a kiss to Porrim's forehead, and passed her hand over her green eyes, closing the lids.

Kanaya buried the man and woman together off the grounds. She spent days preparing Porrim. The blood was cleaned away, the green paint she loved so much was glossed over her lips. Kanaya dressed her in her favorite gown, the black one that made her seem to skin glow. Porrim was arranged in a coffin, and Kanaya thought for a moment that she looked peaceful.

She buried Porrim behind the house, under the willow tree where they used to sit and talk or read when the weather was nice.

Only after Porrim was laid to rest did Kanaya go into the study again. The letters were where Porrim said they would be.

She unsealed the first one, smelling the light scent of a familiar perfume.

' _Dearest Kanaya,_ ' it read. ' _If you are reading this, it means I am gone. Let this letter serve as my wishes for you. The house is yours, to do with as you see fit. I do rather hope you'll keep it, and know you always have a home in London. But if you can't bear to be here for a while, I suggest traveling._ '


	3. Act 3

New York City, New York, United States  
1914

The steamship docked in New York, and Kanaya took her first steps on American soil. She had a time getting through, doctors poking and prodding, making sure she carried no diseases.

Everything she had brought with her was in a trunk. She planned on purchasing a new home with the money she had brought with her.

She had a sizable home built upstate, and news of her arrival in the country spread like wildfire. She began receiving requests to help vampire fledglings, saving the money she was given for her services.

She eventually received a letter from those identifying themselves as the Council. Porrim had told her of the Council, a panel of old vampires who ruled over the species. They requested her presence in a hotel in Manhattan on a specified date and time.

Kanaya attended, worried they would ask her about Porrim's death.

After spending a lovely dinner with several Council members, she was told that her works with fledglings had earned her a great honor. She was declared a lady, vampire nobility. They also offered their condolences on the death of her mentor. She thanked them, and returned home. She knew Lady Porrim would have been proud of her.

The years all passed with a blur. She couldn't very well stop helping with fledglings, it was all she knew. One night after completing a job in Connecticut, she had retired to a local speakeasy for the evening, sitting at the bar and drinking red wine.

A young man sat at the other end, drinking to drown his sorrows. Kanaya could tell by the way he slumped over, black tie pulled loose around his neck, downing his glass quickly before getting a refill. It didn't take long for the bartender to notice and just leave the bottle.

She moved to the seat next to him. "Hello."

He nodded in her direction.

"You seem upset. Would you like to talk about it?"

He looked at her, then set his glass down. "It's really not something you would be interested in, anyways."

"Try me." She dared.

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards for only a second before falling again. "I went to my sister's funeral today."

"I'm sorry. I lost my sister a few years ago." It was true. Kanaya had come to think of Porrim as an older sister, a mentor, but not a lover.

"Well, right now I just want to get drunk, forget any of this has ever happened. There's nothing left for me in the world now."

Kanaya would regret the fourth glass of wine later. "What if I told you I could give you a new life, free from your past with the future holding infinite possibilities?"

"I would say you're insane." He responded honestly. He turned to her, holding out his hand. "Jake, by the way."

She took the hand, shaking it. "Kanaya. But would you accept?"

Jake laughed. "Yes, if you could do that, I would humor you."

"Come with me to my home in New York."

Jake slammed his gin glass back on the bar. "Very well, you have yourself a deal, Miss Kanaya."

* * *

Jake turned out to be easier than most fledglings in accepting their fate. When he had matured enough for the long travel, Kanaya sold the house in New York and returned to London with him.

He was quick enough to start to mimic the accent. Within five years, he was deemed able to live on his own. The adventuring sort he was, Jake left afterwards. And Kanaya was alone again. It was easier this time, though. Knowing there was someone out there made her feel less lonely.

Jake sent letters, sometimes, telling her how he was doing. She one day got one telling her that he had found his sister. Alive. And a werewolf. Kanaya had never personally encounter too many wolfmen, but there were rumored tensions between them and vampires. She wrote back, telling him to be careful. She felt a bit like a mother hen, and the thought made her smile.

When her country went to war again, Kanaya signed up as a volunteer nurse for a military hospital. She enjoyed it. She helped the wounded, and it brought her joy. The next letter she received from Jake was telling her that he had joined the army and would be shipping out soon.

She replied telling him that she was working in a military hospital and he had better not end up there. She also wished him luck.

The war continued, and things got worse. England was bombed, children sent away from their parents, Jews trickling into the country from Poland, Belgium, Holland with horror stories of what was happening to them. France was captured, and England's hope was dying.

Hope died a bit for Kanaya too, but Jake still sent letters as often as he could. They were becoming very brief, just letting her know he was alive. He had somehow learned from one of the men from his birthplace that his former sweetheart had had a child when he was still human. His child. Jake was a father.

Kanaya felt guilt over that. She had taken him away from his possible family. She wished she could write back to him on the battlefield, apologize.

The war continued, and things got better. An invasion of Normandy beach won back part of France, then troops landed on the southern coast, as well. When nurses were needed in battle zones, Kanaya volunteered. She was stationed in Marseilles. The injuries she treated there were much worse than those at the hospital in London.

Then again, anyone at the hospital had survived long enough to get to London. The wounded in Marseilles were the ones who might not survive. More than she would have liked, her only instructions for a patient were to make them comfortable and take down their last words for their families.

* * *

Vriska Serket, U.S. W.A.S.P. liaison was flying in north western Italy. She was shot down, but managed to crash land her plane in neutral territory. An Italian Resistance sympathizer managed to get her to medics, who transported her to a hospital in Marseilles.

When she arrived, her left arm was broken, bloodied, and burned. Her left eye was beyond saving, blue iris beginning to cloud over.

The only instructions for the nurse were to make her comfortable. Kanaya Maryam was that nurse. She naturally asked her supervisor if she should take down any last words. The supervisor said no, WASP was a civilian volunteer group. When she died, she would either be sent back to the United States at the expense of her family, or buried in a mass grave. Technically, they shouldn't even be treating her.

Kanaya didn't regret her decision in the slightest.

Vriska Serket was declared dead by assigned nurse Kanaya Maryam at 9:28 AM after spending several days fighting a fever.

When the next shipment of fresh nurses arrived, Vriska's presence went unquestioned. Seeing no alternative, the pilot followed Kanaya's orders seamlessly.

The war ended later that year, and when they were able to go home, Vriska Serket accompanied Kanaya Maryam to London.

The way there, Vriska told Kanaya her life story. About her librarian sister whom she had always looked up to. About her love for spiders, and pirate stories, and red shoes. About her mother in South Carolina who was appalled to learn that her daughter had volunteered for civilian military service. And worse, that daughter had gotten in.

Kanaya asked Vriska if she would miss her mother.

Vriska said no, hand idly tracing a white scar on her forearm.

Vriska asked why her eye felt different now. Just the left one, which could now see with incredible clarity at great distances.

Kanaya told her the theory about the healing powers of the change. Vriska said oh. She hadn't known that she had gone blind in that eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Involving Vriska, I really just tried to cram as many 8's in there as possible. She died at the equivalent of 8:88 AM and is from SC, the 8th state. I am garbage.


	4. Act 4

Cedar Rapids, Iowa, United States  
1965

Vriska pushed the food cart down the hospital hallway, muttering all the while. There were few tasks she hated more than serving the patients. Sometimes they ignored her, or tried to make conversation and took away her valuable time, or on occasion she got the one who would grasp her hand with both of their own and say "God bless you, miss."

Either way, she hated it. But taking nursing positions made Kanaya happy. Even now, Vriska's mentor was on a different floor doing some sort of nursing.

She served the lunches to each room in the hallway she was assigned to in the cancer ward without an incredible amount of delays, finally arriving in the final room on the end.

She knocked on the door, opening it when she heard no reply. The lights were on, but the boy on the bed was asleep.

Vriska picked his tray off the cart, setting it on the bedside table, noticing a book and note.

She glanced over the note.

 _Tav,_  
_Thought you might want something to pass the time. See you on Saturday._  
_-Rufioh_  
  
Vriska almost snorted at the book when she read the title. 'Peter Pan and Wendy' was etched on the blue cover in white. The boy was far too old for stupid fairy tales.

All in the spirit of curiosity, she took a look at his charts. Tavros Nitram, age 17, bone cancer.

Vriska replaced the charts, shrugged, and left.

Later, looking at patient information files, she found a name that stood out to her. Tavros Nitram. Diagnosed at age 15, not expected to survive to the end of that year. The kid was a fighter, she'd give him that. The doctor's notes could be interesting.

" _Patient complains of pain in ribcage. All attempted methods have failed to make him more comfortable._ "

No! Er, um, she couldn't let anyone fighting so hard in a futile battle be hindered. Pilot's instincts, always strengthen your weakest link for the better of your squad.

Of course, that was her personal philosophy. As the philanthropist she was, this was her only choice.

Narrow vial of the venom she had gathered the night previous clutched in her hand, Vriska managed to switch jobs with one of the other nurses and deliver food to hallway 17B again.

By the time she reached Tavros's room, her face hurt from smiling at everyone. The half-started conversations now seemed to waste hours of her valuable time. She eventually just brought the food in, told them to have a good day, and ignore anything they said not pertaining to food allergies.

She knocked on his door, startled by a reply this time.

"Uh, come in."

Vriska opened it, carrying the tray as well as she could with the vial hidden in her hand.

Tavros was sitting up on the bed, reading the book Rufioh had left him.

Vriska plastered on her best fake smile, setting the tray on the bedside table. She uncorked the vial silently, her back to Tavros. Her hand tilted above the glass of grape juice, watching the dark liquid swallow the clear.

Contented, she took a seat on the chair next to Tavros's bed. "What are you reading?"

He looked up. "'Peter Pan and', um, 'Wendy'."

"That story's for babies." She said without thinking.

He visibly recoiled at that. "Oh, well, I kind of like it."

Vriska rolled her eyes. "Aren't you going to eat?"

Tavros met her gaze for a second before flinching away. "Well, um, yeah, just not right now."

"So I took time out of my day to bring you lunch and you're going to wait until it's too cold to eat it. Is that what you're telling me?"

"I uh, haven't been eating a lot lately. Because of my chest pain."

"Well, eat today." She said. "At least drink your juice."

Tavros grabbed the glass with a thin, shaky hand. He raised it to his lips, swallowing it in small quantities. Each time he winced at the feel of his esophagus engorging.

Vriska raised an eyebrow when he finished it. "Better?"

Tavros nodded, then began to eat the food. "It doesn't hurt as much as I remember."

"Good." She sank into the chair, arms crossed behind her head.

When he had finished, he looked back at Vriska, mystified that she was still there.

"Since I brought you food, why don't you read that book of yours to me?" She suggested.

Tavros stuck a bookmark in the page he was on, then flipped back to the beginning. "'All children, except one, grow up...'"

* * *

Vriska brought lunch to that hallway every day for almost two weeks, switching lunchtime duties with the other nurses. When Kanaya noticed, she approved, her protégé suddenly having developed a taste for one of the more social duties. Of course, after confirming Vriska wasn't feeding on patients in their sleep.

Every day, she slipped a half ounce of venom into Tavros's juice, and he would read her a chapter of 'Peter Pan' before she had to leave. He once said he wished he could fly, and Vriska had told him that she was a pilot. She promised to take him up someday.

Within a few days, she noticed he was getting brighter, gaining more weight. He no longer complained of pain in his joints. The doctors couldn't explain it, but thought it was a good sign.

Kanaya was a little wiser than them in the field of vampirism, however.

When they had finished dinner one evening, Vriska was just rising from the table when Kanaya bid her to sit and talk.

"I heard about that boy with cancer starting to get better. They're saying it's a miracle."

"Yeah, it's pretty amazing. I'm happy for him." _Shit._

"Really? Have you met him?" Kanaya asked innocently, taking a thoughtful sip of iced tea.

"Yeah, I've taken him food. We've talked a little bit." Vriska shrugged.

"Strange that he would start 'recovering'" the air quotes around the word confirmed Vriska's fear. "Just after you start requesting to serve that hallway every day."

No point in keeping up the ruse any longer. "It's not like I had a choice!" Vriska defended. "He's already lived longer than they expected him to.”

"Is that so? I think you had a very simple choice. You could leave the boy be, or drug him. And now he is going to feel better, and the doctors will think the cancer's been somehow cured until he winds up dead."

"Until I showed up, he wasn't eating because he was in so much pain." Vriska was on the verge of yelling now.

"All you've done is doomed him."

"Then change him."

Kanaya stared her down for a moment. "I can't. We need to respect him and let him die on his own, let him live a mortal life."

"What would have happened if you'd thought that about me?" Vriska asked. "I would be dead in France, in a giant pile of corpses in an unmarked grave. Please!"

"That was different!" Kanaya shouted.

Vriska shook her head. "How?" She asked before storming off to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Kanaya threw her head into her hands.

* * *

Vriska didn't come out the next day.

Kanaya went to work alone, telling their shift supervisor that Vriska was feeling under the weather.

Kanaya ended up switching jobs with someone, taking over 17B for lunch time.

Tavros was clearly expecting someone else, his face unintentionally falling when he saw who it was.

"Hello, Tavros." She said, carrying the tray over. "I'm afraid Vriska is sick today, so I'm filling in for her."

"Oh, that's too bad. I hope she gets better soon."

"That's actually something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh, what about her? Is she spending too much time in here? I can read faster, but I really like Vriska."

"Pardon? Reading?"

Tavros nodded. "When she brings me lunch, I read a little of 'Peter Pan'."

"That's lovely, but that's not it. You see, Tavros, Vriska can't come to see you anymore."

The boy quickly looked panicked. "What? Why not?"

"I'm afraid that she's bad for your health."

"But I've been getting better since she started coming!" He insisted, fear lighting up his eyes. "She got me to eat, and I've been getting stronger. The other day she made me get out of bed, and I walked. I walked for the first time in over a year." His eyes had drifted down to his lap, tears threatening to slip out. "Please, don't take her away from me. She's my Tinkerbell. I need her to fly."

Kanaya tried to harden her heart, but the pitiful boy reminded her of someone she had known long ago. Someone who had been terrified that they would lose someone they cared about. _A vampire is a monster by nature, you must have your own compassion._ Porrim's words echoed in her ears.

"Would you do anything to be with her?" Kanaya found herself asking. "Give up everything to spend eternity with her?"

"Yes." Tavros said almost without hesitation. A scarlet blush spread across his cheeks. "I, I think, I love her."

* * *

Despite what anyone may have told you, it is somewhat easy to sneak a willing person out of a hospital, particularly if you have them dress in civilian clothes and go during visiting hours, coinciding with the time your shift working in said hospital is ending.

Tavros was nervous, hands shaking despite Kanaya's calming words in his ear.

Kanaya led Tavros into the parlor, having him sit and bringing a glass of iced tea.

While he was busy with it, she knocked on Vriska's door.

"What do you want?"

"I was hoping you might come out and talk to me." Kanaya replied.

"Yeah, so you can meddle in my business more. Try again later, Miss Fussy-fangs!"

"Vriska, please. We have company."

"I don't want to talk to Jake, either." She responded after a moment of thinking.

"It's not Jake. It's someone you'll be glad to see."

Vriska pondered that for a moment. "Ten minutes."

"Very well." She stood aside as Vriska left the room, giving her mentor a suspicious look as she passed.

Kanaya remained where she was, watching and chastising as Vriska descended the stairs by sitting on the railing. She heard a gasp when Vriska got into the parlor, Tavros having just keeled over from the substance Kanaya had included in the tea.

The entire duration of Tavros's reawakening, as Kanaya had taken to calling it, Vriska was at his bedside.

It took a great deal longer than Kanaya was used to, destroying the cancer and replacing the damaged cells. A full week passed, and he cracked his eyes, looking up at Vriska's face.

"Tink?" He asked quietly.

"Hey Peter." She whispered, tears beading on her eyelashes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it. There may be an epilogue to come, but I couldn't get any further in my main fic until I had completely written Kanaya's backstory.


End file.
